


Intensification

by ameonna (zetsubonna), melospiza (orphan_account)



Series: Throw Down the Gauntlet [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asthma, Barebacking, Best Friends, Catholic Character, Crossdressing Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lace Panties, M/M, Old Friends, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pushy Bucky, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/ameonna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/melospiza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has this thing about dames in nylons. Girdles are annoying, but pretty much anything else a dame has on under her slip is high on his list of favorite things. He very rarely lets a lady get all the way down to her skin. Satin, silk, lace, ribbons, all that stuff, it turns him into the wolf from those Tex Avery cartoons.</p><p>As he is consistently reminded, though, when he gets too handsy, too moony or too presumptive, Steve ain't a dame. Any implication that Steve is anything like a dame gets him all riled up and ruins any chance Bucky has of getting tail at home instead of chasing it at the dance hall. So if he's going to get Steve to play along with his little notion, Bucky requires an intermediary.</p><p>Luckily, they do live near the Navy Yard. The guys (girls? man, whatever) upstairs might be able to help him out.</p><p>(Original Characters are, once again, mere tools to get Bucky and Steve into kinky shit. I ain't even sorry.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intensification

It wasn't that Bucky gave up dames. Steve didn't want him to. He found it almost as sexy to watch, listen to, or hear about Bucky screwing a dame as he did to have Bucky fool around with him, which Bucky learned the next time he brought Steve a Coke after a date and found his arms full of squirming, excitable blond.

Steve still drank the Coke, warm, using it to rinse out his mouth and looking, Bucky thought, beautifully smug as they lay in their nest of pillows and blankets on the floor, sweaty and sticky and still tangled together.

There were obvious things he could do with Steve that he couldn't do with dames. Bucky hadn't ever had the nerve to ask a dame if she'd let him go in the back way, first of all, and with dames, not using rubbers just wasn't ever an option. With Steve, obviously, he got _both_ , which was _amazing_ , and Steve was small enough that, once they started going all the way and Steve had broken Bucky of the habit of treating him like glass every single time, Bucky could put Steve's thighs around his hips and arms around his neck and screw him against the wall until one of them cried.

Steve mostly bullied Bucky into quickies because he felt like he was going insane when Bucky took his time, called him pet names and kissed him into fevers. He couldn't have an asthma attack, he reasoned, if it was over too fast for his breathing to get labored. Bucky called bullshit occasionally and did it anyway, because it was Steve, and watching him collapse into a whining, whimpering, sweaty, fucked out mess did wonders for Bucky's morale.

Steve occasionally found a lonely girl with a shipped out fella who didn't mind giving him some tail even if she didn't want to spend a whole night with him, and it always made Bucky happy, because it gave him a boost of confidence that kept him from succumbing to melancholy as well as everything else. He also still got into stupid fistfights with big bruisers who split his lips and blacked his eyes, most of which Bucky interrupted and decisively ended. Some of the fights were because Steve was small, just a little bit pretty, and lived around DUMBO, for all he dressed butch, acted butch, mooned over girls, and nobody who didn't live in their building had any idea he and Bucky actually were screwing. Screwing was the natural extension of their relationship, they figured, the physical element to how stupid they'd been for each other since they met. They didn't put a name on it. They were just Bucky-and-Steve, like aways.

Still, there were nights when Bucky would catch himself kissing Steve's forehead when he was asleep, shirtless and curled into Bucky's side. "You're just so fuckin' pretty," Bucky murmured into Steve's hair, stroking his back. "God, you're a doll. The Hell did I ever do?"

Steve didn't answer, of course. Occasionally he would grunt and burrow deeper into Bucky's chest, and Bucky would snicker and squeeze him a little, his hand resting proprietarily on Steve's tight little ass, which Steve never let him get away with when he was awake. Steve was arbitrary about what displays of affection he would tolerate, right up to the moment they were mid-screw and he was too far gone to care, and even then, sometimes he would stubborn up and swat at Bucky when he came back to his senses. Bucky was used to his surly temper and didn't let it bother him a bit.

***

Jackie was skeptical, and Jamie clearly thought Bucky Barnes had finally lost his goddamned mind.

"I can't see it," Jackie said for the third time. "I just can't see him going for it. He tries so hard to be butch, Buck. Why do you even want it?"

"It's kinda unfair," Jamie agreed. "He's a gentleman, and he's got good bones, a real pretty face. If he were even three inches taller, twenty pounds heavier, he could almost definitely get a dame for keeps. A little bitty one with a head full of dark curls and big eyes, since that's apparently his type."

"Not that it isn't already hopeless," Jackie sighed, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette into an empty sardine can on the windowsill. "He's been sweet on you forever, even though you're a heel and a skirt chaser. If he gave up looking tomorrow to be your full-time side-piece, I wouldn't even blink."

"Lovesick little sap," Jamie shook his head, crossing his legs, his expression full of pity. "How is he, anyway? That cough ever clear up?"

"At least until the next one," Bucky sighed, shoulders drooping. "Every goddamn time, I hold my breath in case it's consumption. Somebody on the street sniffles in his direction, Steve gets pneumonia. The wind blows wrong from the park, it's another asthma attack. You ever want an example of God trying to make sure the good die young, take a look at Rogers."

He crossed himself anyway, and Jackie did, too.

"And here's his sweetheart trying to give the poor thing apoplexy. Steve. In a dress. I can't even picture it." Jamie scowled at Bucky. "What else do you want us to do to him? Makeup?"

"Dolled to the nines. Everything but heels," Bucky said, smirking faintly. "Break his damn neck coming down the stairs."

"If Steve died dressed up for you and anybody saw him, he would haunt you until you threw yourself off the Bridge," Jackie scolded.

"Steve dies, I ain't long for this world anyway," Bucky said darkly. "I'd enlist the next day and chase down a land mine. Are you gonna help out or what?"

"We'll take care of it," Jamie sighed, shaking his head. "Any requests?"

"Blue," Bucky said, so quickly that both fairies had their eyebrows instantly go up. "Something blue and silky, the more it matches his eyes, the better."

"Fucking _joes_ ," Jackie grumbled, frowning with disapproval. "I ain't going any darker than pink on the lipstick. He's blond, red'd make him look like a whore."

"You'd know," Bucky teased, handing over the fifteen dollars he'd managed to squirrel away without Steve noticing his extra shifts or cutting back on cigarettes and hair pomade.

Jackie smacked his hand, then pocketed the money. "Whatever you do," he warned, " _Whatever you do_ , Barnes, however cute we get him, if you laugh, if you even snicker, we'll never help you again. Not ever. Especially not when he busts you in the mouth with your own right cross and splits your lip. Serve you right."

***

It took Jackie and Jamie two weeks. Every day, Bucky came home, feigning absolute nonchalance, refraining from kissing Steve when he walked in the door- another of Steve's arbitrary limits- and eating dinner like nothing was going on, nothing at all. Steve didn't show any signs of suspecting.

It was a Saturday. The radio was on a soft station, which was different, they usually favored swing and jazz. The apartment smelled like beef stew and rye bread.

The dress was blue, robin's egg blue, with cap sleeves and a skirt that hit Steve's calves. His feet were bare other than a pair of sheer stockings, his hair done up in loose little gold fingerwaves, his pouty mouth was pinker than it had ever been unless Bucky had just finished biting and sucking his lips, and the fire in his eyes and defiance in the set of his jaw put Bucky in mind of Bette Davis.

"I swear before Christ," Steve mumbled. He wasn't wearing rouge. He'd never have needed it anyhow. "I know where you sleep."

Bucky quickly shuffled in and shut the door, throwing the deadbolt and cringing a little as if he fully expected Steve to hurl something at his head, but there was something wondering in his wide-eyed expression. He almost dropped his lunch pail, and when he tried to drop his keys into the dish left on a table by the door for that purpose, he missed.

"Hey," he said.

Steve cut his eyes to one side, like he usually did when he was mortally embarrassed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, you ain't laughing," he muttered, wrapping one arm across his stomach and holding on to the opposite elbow. "So you've at least got one lick of sense. C'mere."

Bucky abandoned the lunch pail on the table as well and wandered closer, tucking his thumbs into his pockets, head tilted to the side as his gaze flitted down the length of Steve's body.

Steve shifted again. The fairies knew their stuff. The dress hung just right on Steve's shoulders and flattered his narrow hips. There was no illusion of a bust he didn't have, but the collar hung just low enough to expose the delicate hollow of his throat. He smelled like powder, pomade and soap. He kept his head down and cut his eyes again, this time up at Bucky's face, his voice throaty and low, cheeks burning.

"Tell me I don't look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," Bucky murmured, his eyes half-lidded, a smile curving his mouth. And then he exhaled a chuckle and recoiled a step, adding, "Don't punch me."

"Ain't gonna punch you," Steve mumbled, dropping his eyes to the middle of Bucky's chest. "That was the damn point, wasn't it?"

He paused, moving forward, his hands coming to rest on Bucky's chest, right at the bottom of his rib cage.

"Don't you dare when I'm in trousers. Right in the shoulder," he huffed, his hands curling into loose fists in Bucky's shirt. "Do somethin'. I dunno. Kiss me. I got no idea after this."

"You're always beautiful," Bucky said. He lifted his hand to Steve's hair, careful not to muss the curls as he caressed the wheaten strands. "Gotta get you in a damn dress before you'll let me say it."

Steve shifted his weight again, snorting softly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he looked up at Bucky's face with his chin still tilted low. "S'all blue. Everything but the lace on my drawers. You're a sap. You coulda just asked. I'd have swatted you a couple of times, but I'd obviously do it."

"I didn't want to ask," Bucky admitted, his fingertips stroking lightly along the curve of Steve's ear, palm cupping against his jaw. "I didn't want you to think... well, I don't know what you would have thought. Just figured you'd be angry."

He snorted again, twice this time, sliding in a little closer. "I was. I was mad as a hornet. But then I thought about it, about you and your girls, about how your hands moved over all that satin and how you made Evie keep her nylons on. The dress feels stupid and I wouldn't let 'em stick me in a damn girdle, but the rest ain't that bad. The mascara actually looks pretty good, I think."

Bucky chuckled, dipping his head to brush a kiss to Steve's hair. "Good. Girdles are a pain in the ass."

"Camisole under the slip," he advised. "Ain't got the tits for a bra. Jackie picked the panties, shorts, not tight, ivory lace- not gonna tell you anything else, it's a surprise. I think you'll like it, maybe. Even spent the extra dollar on silk stockings, not nylons, says they feel better and run less."

Bucky shook his head, and there was a look in his eyes; a soft warmth, a wondering admiration, that almost made it all worth it. "You went all out, huh?"

"Yeah, well. I was awfully put out with you for hoarding all that cash- over half a month's rent, Barnes? You're crazy!- but I figure if my guy's into it enough to cut back on his cigs, least I can do is cooperate."

He shrugged, glancing up at him again, lifting his chin this time, smile turning impish. "I may or may not have more than one pair of fancy drawers. Play your cards right and I might do it again."

Sliding his arms around Steve's waist, Bucky pulled him against his chest, biting his lip briefly as he smiled at him. "Your guy, huh?"

Steve cocked his head to one side, the defiant flash coming back into his eyes. "Tell me you ain't, I'll sock you so hard-"

Bucky was laughing even as he dipped his head to kiss Steve firmly on the lips, giving him a squeeze, one hand slipping down to palm his ass, the other pressed against the small of his back. Then he was lifting Steve up and off of his feet, and while it wasn't something Steve usually allowed until he was naked, it was hard to argue with the tongue in his mouth.

Steve found himself laughing, too, slim arms wrapping around Bucky's neck, squirming so his hips pressed into Bucky's stomach, his teeth scraping Bucky's tongue before he pulled back enough to nip at his mouth.

"You want dinner, first?" He was purring, for God's sake, and already at least half hard. "Or dessert?"

"Well," Bucky mumbled, his smile wry, though he showed no signs of letting him go. "Wouldn't want to let good food go to waste..."

Steve smirked at him, then buried it in the side of Bucky's neck, mouthing his way under his collar. "It'll keep. S'why I made _stew_ , stupid. Been going for hours, couple more'll just make it better."

Bucky kissed Steve's neck, and then the shell of his ear, brushing a final soft kiss to his carefully arranged curls before he started carrying him toward the bedroom. "You think of everything," he noted.

"One of us has to," Steve murmured dryly, then went back to licking and sucking on the side of Bucky's neck. He'd never yet left Bucky with a hickey, though he'd muttered a few times about wanting to, wanting to leave marks all over him, love bites and nail marks and, once, when he was drunk enough to be giggling, offered to use the inking pen he kept for his commercial jobs to stencil _Property of S. G. Rogers_ on Bucky's stomach, about four inches over his dick.

He wasn't giggling at the moment, and he was still hanging around Bucky's neck and shoulders and kissing him over and over, only blushing a little, seeming to have relaxed a lot once Bucky started touching him.

Bucky dumped him rather unceremoniously onto the bed, biting his lip and grinning, and then stated, "You're gorgeous. You make a damn pretty dame," before dodging a swat.

"Hey, simmer down, baby. I meant it as a compliment."

Steve pouted at him, and the lipstick exaggerated it, made his mouth look luscious and full, the mascara framing his big blue eyes when he rolled them and accentuating what Bucky had known for years about them being ridiculously long and thick for all they were blond and easily missed.

"Just 'cause you're my guy don't make me a dame," he muttered, shrugging his narrow shoulders and putting his hands beside his hips on the bed. "You better watch your step. Tell me what to do."

"Stop tryin' to hit me, for starters," Bucky said, running his hands over Steve's dress, shaping the delicate fabric against the slim body beneath.

"Stop making me wanna," Steve countered, though his voice was much softer and there was less bite in it than before, his weight shifting back on his hands, his pout threatening, at the corners of lips, to melt into a smile. "Gorgeous, huh?"

"Prettier than any dame," Bucky murmured, his hands wandering along Steve's lean thighs, and it might have been insulting if he hadn't looked so earnest when he said it, if he hadn't said it such a soft tone of voice, his eyes on Steve's legs.

Biting his lip, Steve tightened his fingers in the blanket, cutting his eyes to the side and shrugging again, even though Bucky wasn't looking right at him to see it. He tilted his head to the side and reached out to run his fingers through Bucky's messy, tousled hair, holding his breath for a minute.

"See, this is why I did it," he murmured, just as warm, if a touch breathier and more shy. "You're such a sap when you're happy."

"You make me pretty happy, Steve," Bucky admitted in a murmur, his hands stroking along Steve's legs, up his calves and over his knobby knees, and then he was sinking down to rub his cheek against Steve's thigh, closing his eyes, sighing. "Real nice, babe."

Steve bit his lips together and leaned on one hand while he stroked Bucky's hair with the other, his eyes half-closing, warmly watching him as he knelt at Steve's feet.

"It ain't nothing special, Buck," he sighed, tracing the line of his jaw. "Though I feel awful silly getting all dolled up for a cuddle when all you gotta do to get me to hold still and be petted is bring home a three dollar bottle of scotch."

"It's pretty damn special, Steve," Bucky countered, still rubbing his cheek on Steve's thigh, palms caressing upward, starting to push up the hem of the dress. "You're so pretty, and you feel so good... I feel like it's my birthday."

"Well, that's good. Now I know what you want for your birthday," Steve quipped, nibbling his bottom lip when squirming made his thighs rub together. "I might skip the dress, though. Just put on the underclothes and kiss you at the door. Mm, Bucky."

"Stevie," Bucky mumbled, and it was clear that he was in a rare mood, in rare form, because he didn't usually start with "Stevie" or "Baby" or "Gorgeous" or "Beautiful" until he at least had his dick wet. He nudged Steve's thighs gently apart, and then he was ducking up under his skirt, nuzzling his way up and between his thighs to mouth the front of his lace-trimmed shorts.

"OhmyChrist-" Steve squeaked, clamping his hand over his mouth, only Bucky's hands on his thighs keeping him from scuttling backward. He leaned back enough that Bucky could get his face against the shorts, but his breath caught and he made an odd, mewling little noise that rarely came out of him unless he was completely naked and Bucky was in him and twitched his hips at a certain angle.

"Hmm?"

It was impossible to gauge what expression he might have worn, with the dress being in the way, but Steve could almost imagine the wicked look in his steely eyes as he nuzzled again at the front of the frilly undergarment before starting to mouth him through it.

"Bucky- Bucky- Bucky-" Steve gasped, his voice going incrementally higher each time he said Bucky's name until his breath threatened to catch, the sensation of it knocking Steve back on his elbows, pupils blown in big blue eyes wide with shock and rimmed with mascara, thighs parted and trembling.

Bucky laughed then, and he flipped Steve's skirt up to his hips as he came up for air, grinning at him before glancing down again, admiring the lacy little shorts.

They were blue, too, like the dress, bright against Steve's pale skin, trimmed with ruffles made of ivory lace and cut so that if Bucky flipped him over, he could imagine the view would be amazing- they would probably leave the curve of Steve's ass exposed. They were sheer enough to be translucent, but not transparent, walking a very thin line between a good girl and a girl in a burlesque, not quite naughty enough for a girl who might charge for it, just the raciest thing a fella's steady might own.

Steve was hard as he could get and shivering down to his toes.

"Damn," Bucky sighed, soft and hungry and appreciative, and then he braced one hand beside Steve's hips before dipping his head downward, and he never, he wasn't that type of fella, except now suddenly with frilly panties he was, he was mouthing Steve through the shorts, running his lips up and down Steve's cock, kneading his balls with gentle fingers.

Steve whined, high and needy, choking on his breath and still shaking all over, watching him with an expression of ecstatic horror, torn between _you don't have to_ and _dear God please, don't stop_. This wasn't how they worked, it just wasn't, and Bucky knew Steve well enough to know that, as keen as he was on giving, he'd probably never received in his life.

"Bucky-" Steve sobbed, once, just once, but full of ache and wonder, his thighs spread apart as wide as they could comfortably go. He bit the tip of his tongue and sat there, mesmerized, breathing raggedly though his mouth, watching Bucky intently and trying his best not to move, even as he canted his hips up so he could take in everything he was seeing.

"Bucky, please. God don't- don't I or I- I can't take you doin- that. Please. Please don't stop. Please, Bucky, Jesus, Bucky, God- I- I-"

Bucky stroked his belly, lifting his head to murmur, "Breathe, sweetheart," before he started to suck the tip of his cock through the thin, sheer fabric, stroking his tongue back and forth across the sensitive head.

He clapped his hand over his own mouth so fast and so loud it sounded like he had smacked himself in the face, and the wail that filtered through it a moment later was hardly a surprise. He was trying to breathe, he was trying really hard, and it didn't sound like the usual, grimly familiar Steve-trying-to-breathe when his lungs wouldn't take on air. This was different, softer, more aching and sweet, his lashes half-lowered over his eyes, cheeks flushed, the inside of his thighs twitching. The garters holding up his stockings were part of the panties themselves, bands of blue ribbons on Steve's thighs on either side of Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky was smiling as he rubbed his cheek against Steve's cock, the curl at the corners of his mouth betraying him even as he sucked on Steve's balls, wrapping his arms around Steve's hips, fanning his fingers out across his stomach. The panties became clingy and damp, and still Bucky was mouthing him, stroking him with lips and tongue, finally nudging aside the lace-trimmed fabric to wrap his lips around hot flesh.

Steve dropped his hand to the bed again, forcing himself to breathe, syncing his inhalations and exhalations to Bucky's by copying the rise and fall of Bucky's back. His voice was still high and thready, his eyes mostly closed but for a shimmer of blue under his painted lashes.

"Bucky. Bucky. Unn- Bucky."

"Oughtta get you off in these little shorts," Bucky mumbled, still stroking him with one hand, massaging his balls with the other, gazing up at him with his steely blue eyes, the tip of his tongue darting out from between damp lips to swirl over the head of Steve's cock. "But I don't want them to be stained, not as much as they cost... what'll it be, baby? You wanna come in the shorts, or in my mouth, or somewhere else? Or d'you wanna wait?"

Steve looked delirious. Bucky had seen him look more coherent in the grips of pneumonia. "In- in- are you serious?"

He laughed dizzily, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Christ Almighty, you think I care? God. If you make me wait, though, I'm gonna die. Whatever is fine, Buck. Mm."

Bucky pursed his lips, letting them curl at the corners into a wicked smirk, and then he tugged the shorts down over Steve's hips, down enough to free his erection from them, before licking his lips, then drawing Steve's cock between them.

He wasn't as good at it as Steve had gotten, of course, but it clearly wasn't his first rodeo- hand wrapped around the base to keep from gagging, fingers pulsing, lips shielding teeth, no amateur mistakes here- but you didn't come up poor and good looking in Brooklyn, near DUMBO and the Navy yards, without giving someone head in an alley, didn't matter how much of a tough you thought you were. There had been, in fact, some speculation among the fairies, and Steve had gotten in a fight with a guy once over comments he'd made about Bucky's mouth, but in that one shining moment, when his plush slick lips were wrapped around Steve's cock, they seemed to be staggeringly true.

Bucky Barnes had a mouth made to suck dick.

"Holy Mother of God," Steve gasped, sweat starting to undo his carefully layered curls, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to smother anything else he might have said. He probably should have been embarrassed when he barely lasted thirty seconds, but Steve was an honest young man, and he'd wanted Bucky's face in his lap for almost a dozen years, he'd just never actually thought it would happen.

Bucky didn't choke, though his brows did furrow, his eyes squeezing shut as he swallowed, and then his brow cleared and he resumed sucking him, humming, _slurping_ , drawing forth every last groan and twitch and shudder.

Steve shook until he was limp, his arms giving out, slumping on the bed, one light, gentle hand carding through Bucky's hair. "C'mere. Ooh, Bucky. C'mere. I can't even- Jesus, Mary and Joseph."

"The _mouth_ on you," Bucky teased, crawling up the length of Steve's body to wrap around him, to kiss him, the taste of Steve's seed still lingering on his tongue.

Steve wrapped both arms around Bucky's neck and delved his tongue into Bucky's mouth, squirming minutely, plainly thrilled by the experience in its entirety. 

"I can't exactly go to confession these days, anyway," he muttered, grinning. "Mm. If I gotta dress up to get you to do that, you don't ever have to be nervous asking me again. Mm, Bucky."

Bucky silenced him with another kiss, his hands slipping down to coax Steve to wrap his legs around him before strong arms wrapped around Steve's waist. He was heavy, but it felt so good to be pinned beneath the solid warmth of his weight, to be enveloped in the scent of him, to feel his heart pounding against Steve's chest.

Steve squirmed and caressed the back of Bucky's neck, laughing very quietly against his mouth, not quite giggling when Bucky palmed his silk-clad thighs, nibbling at his mouth, nuzzling his nose.

"I think you're sweeter this way, too," Bucky mumbled, propping himself up on his elbow, his fingers stroking Steve's curls. His smile faded his expression becoming warm and earnest, soft in a way that made Steve's heart beat harder, that made part of him want to wiggle free and escape.

"You don't need to be all tough around me," he murmured.

Steve swallowed thickly, ducking his head down, tugging at the front of Bucky's shirt. He didn't quite look like he wanted to flee, but only because he was more interested in Bucky's attention, at the moment, than his dignity.

"I just- I. Jeez, Bucky." He nuzzled into Bucky's shoulder. "I _know_ , I just-"

Bucky stroked his knuckles along Steve's cheek, his jaw, he kissed his brow and, very lightly, his powdered eyelids, kissed the tip of his nose and the point of his chin, kissed his shyly smiling mouth. Then he pushed himself up onto his knees, sitting back on his heels as he started to unbutton his shirt, slowly, his eyes flitting over the inelegant sprawl of Steve's limbs across the coverlet.

Steve knew he should have felt self-conscious, kissed and petted like that, not to mention splayed across the bed with his skirt around his hips and his panties half-down, but he didn't. He was mesmerized by the expression on Bucky's face, by the way he was still looking at him like he couldn't take his eyes off Steve. He could still taste himself on his lips from Bucky's tongue in his mouth, and he brushed his fingers over his painted lips in absent reflection, unconscious of how the gesture flattered his hand and his mouth.

Bucky pulled off his tie, his shirt, his undershirt, dropping each article over the side of the bed and onto the floor even as he undressed, hands falling to his belt as he murmured, "Why don't you go ahead and wiggle out of that dress?"

Steve laughed softly, unbuttoning his collar and squirmed out of the dress and the slip that kept it from being transparent, his shoulders moving up to his ears when he was sitting up and out of it.

In addition to his silky, translucent, still saliva-damp panties, their garters, and the silk stockings that fell three-quarters of the way up Steve's slim thighs, he was wearing a blue chemise in the same robin's egg shade, cut in a style a dame wouldn't wear these days but that suited Steve perfectly. The straps were ribbon thin, and there was a band of ivory lace that matched his panties right around the top of the chest, but it was boxy and squarish like a flapper girl might have favored, the sort that looked far better on a flat chest than it would have on anyone with breasts.

"They know their stuff, don't they?" Steve asked, tossing his dress carefully in the direction of his own bed, leaning back on his hands again. The chemise wasn't too form fitting, either, it was slinky and soft in the way a girl's best slip usually was, and Steve's eyes being cut off in the direction of the discarded dress gave Bucky a very fleeting impression that Steve didn't notice how hard his nipples were.

Bucky had his trousers half off when he stopped to stare at him, and then he stepped off of the bed, swiftly shucking both trousers and undershorts before climbing back onto the bed, climbing up Steve's body, and kissing him very soundly on the mouth. His whole body shivered as Steve's stocking thighs brushed against his hips, his tongue plunging hungrily into Steve's mouth.

Steve was blushing again, and laughing shyly into Bucky's kisses, stroking his shoulders and the back of his neck. His legs didn't slide sexily against Bucky's hips like a girl's would, the press of him was hotter and firmer, his shoulders slouched in, modest, bashful and sweet.

Bucky was suddenly all hands, groping his thighs, his ass, groping his cock through the panties, squeezing and groping his chest like he might have done with a dame, while he kissed his mouth, his neck, his shoulder, while he ground his cock against Steve's inner thigh, his hips.

"Can I fuck you with these on?" he mused aloud, a mumble, fingers sliding up under the lace of the panties.

"Sure, if you want," Steve replied, sounding only mildly surprised, both his brows arched. "I mean, to the side or down a little? As long as we don't let anything dry on them, I oughtta be able to get it out. You don't think I'd let them spend your paycheck on anything I couldn't wash, did you?"

"Now," Bucky mumbled, kissing Steve's neck, his chest, mouthing his way over the front of the chemise to lick and suck at his nipples, fingers sliding between the cheeks of his narrow ass to stroke against the puckered entrance. " _Now_ -now. Now."

Steve's breath sucked in sharply when Bucky's fingers found his hole, his whole body jerking against Bucky's chest, knees catching on his ribs.

"Yeah," he breathed, eyes wide, clutching at Bucky's shoulders. "Okay. Okay, now- now's good. I, um-"

He squirmed as the touch got more invasive, and Bucky could have tackled him off the bed and to the floor. Steve was tight, he was always tight, but he wasn't as resistant as he could have been because he was already _slick_.

" _Jesus_ , Bucky."

"Good God Almighty, Steve, what did you _do_?" Bucky gasped, pushing himself up onto his elbow to blink at Steve, wide-eyed and incredulous.

Steve was scarlet-faced and looking furtively elsewhere, his teeth scraping the paint from his bottom lip before he managed to speak, his voice a husky whisper.

"I know where the Vaseline is and I've got hands. The hell do you think?"

"Oh my _God_ ," Bucky said in a low, throaty growl, and he was on top of Steve again, threatening the integrity of the undergarments as his hands pulled at them, as he thrust urgently against Steve's thigh, as the open-mouthed kisses that he pressed to Steve's throat and shoulder began to heat and sting, as his fingers started to push into him.

Steve bit his lips together to keep from crying out as his hands clutched at Bucky's sides, at his arms, his heels kicking and digging into the bed. He stretched around Bucky's fingers, slick and giving just enough, shifting himself around so Bucky's cock met Steve's bare skin just slightly less than his silky stocking, eyes clenching shut.

"Can I just-" Bucky panted, stroking two fingers into him, his opposite hand grasping Steve's thigh hard enough to bruise.

Steve pressed his face into the side of Bucky's neck, gasping, swallowing a loud moan. " _Yes_."

"Baby," Bucky murmured, slipping his fingers out, and then he was tugging at the panties, and there was a warning pop from one of the seams, but then the thick head of his cock was stroking along Steve's ass, searching, pressing, forcing him gently, slowly open, and Bucky was pressed up on his elbow, his head hanging down, his eyes closed, his breath ragged.

Steve dropped back to the bed, his right hand curling into a fist in the pillowcase, his left clutching at Bucky's side, blunt nails scratching at his ribs. His stomach hitched and his thighs shook as he attempted to push his heels into the bed and meet Bucky's hips by arching up.

"Baby, baby," Bucky panted, head arched back, body taut, fingers pressed into the flesh of Steve's hip, and even all the times Steve had watched him with a dame he hadn't seen him like this, already shuddering, his face screwed up with pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut as if the simplest look would set him off. "Baby, baby, _baby_ -"

Steve exhaled in a long series of quick hitches, straining to make sure the rest of his muscles didn't catch with his breath, watching him with half-lidded eyes, warmth building in his chest as his heart lurched and pounded in a way that didn't scare him, not yet. "Bucky-"

"Jesus," Bucky whispered, starting to press against him again, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the opposite hand tangling in his hair, his mouth on the side of Steve's neck, his body in a taut, trembling arch. And then he was pressing his knees into the bed, thrusting slowly deeper, making sounds in the back of his throat, toes curling, breath hissing between his teeth.

"Baby," he whispered, "baby doll..."

Steve growled quietly, digging his fingers into Bucky's ribs, nuzzling his ear and panting, shifting incrementally as Bucky moved over him, fighting the urge to yank the pillow out from under his head and cram it under his hips.

"Yeah, Bucky. Oh, yeah, Bucky. Mm. Almost- oh, God, Bucky, right _there_ -"

"Yeah?" Bucky mumbled. "Like that? Hmm?" 

His hands slipped down Steve's lean back, pinning his arms against his sides, leaving him room only to grab at Bucky's back and waist as he closed his own palms over Steve's ass, lifting and supporting him as his hips ticked back and thrust forward, just deep enough.

"Jesus!" Steve hissed, not moving, knowing he couldn't squirm even if he wanted to. He shivered again as he drew in deep, careful breaths, pacing himself even as his eyes rolled back. "Yeah. Oh, yeah, Bucky, just like that, right there, Jesus God-"

Bucky's lips seemed to burn his skin, and later on, when he saw the bruises, Steve would swat at him for leaving hickeys where they'd be harder to hide, but at that moment Bucky's mouth seemed to be connected via electric current to the sensation of his cock stretching Steve's ass, and every murmur seemed to vibrate over Steve's skin.

"I'm gonna fuck you," he whispered. "Hard. You want it? You ready for it?"

Steve nodded before he could speak, his tongue flicking over his lips, his head tipped back, still breathing in long, forced, deep inhalations and quick, ragged exhalations, his hips jerking toward Bucky's in minute ticks.

"Yeah. Yeah, Bucky. Mmph, please. Please, just do it. Do it. I want you to do me, I want you, come on, Bucky, please, I can't-"

The first stroke stole Steve's breath, and then the second, as Bucky started to fuck him with deep forceful strokes, his fingers rippling against Steve's little ass, his breath coming in chuffing gasps against Steve's neck and shoulder, the flush spreading from his face to his throat as his momentum slowly began to increase, as the strokes grew faster, but still hard, still forceful, until he was pounding into him like a piston, like a machine made to fuck.

As Steve's eyes rolled up and back, his chin dropped to his chest, until he was watching Bucky with eyes that were heavily lidded and half hidden by his own brow, his breathing adjusting to the rhythm of Bucky's cock slamming into him, his fists clenching under where Bucky had pinned his wrists, nails biting into his palms.

" _Bucky._ Bucky. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky-"

The slip of the chemise against his nipples was driving him crazy, the pull and slide of the panties making his cock twitch even though it hadn't recovered yet.

With one arm around his waist, holding him up and all but pinned against Bucky's body, Bucky slid the other arm back up to Steve's shoulders, to tangle his fingers in his hair once again, his head arching back, his features contorted with pleasure. The snap of his hips was making the bad rock, bedsprings squeaking, brass headboard tapping the wall, his cock pounding deep into Steve's ass.

Steve's breath was labored and erratic, hot and damp against Bucky's throat, his freed hands moving up to grab at Bucky's back on both sides, his eyes closed. His thighs were smooth against Bucky's hips even before they were silky, a faint sheen of sweat across his brow and sticking his chemise to the middle of his chest.

"Feels good, Buck? S'it good for you, Bucky? I did good, right? You like it? You want me?"

Whether or not Bucky answered, Steve kept kissing and licking his throat, his chest, his voice rasping at the end of each question.

The bedsprings complained even more loudly, the whole bed rocking, Bucky's blunt nails digging into Steve's flesh as he moved urgently, incoherent sounds spilling from his throat, low and aching, needy and pained, his head arched back and his body straining.

"C'mon, Bucky," Steve murmured, leaning back in his arms, eyes dark and hungry, giving his hips a little swivel and letting his ass grind and tighten around Bucky's cock, his mouth opening wide before his tongue flashed, hot and wet and red, over his swollen, kiss-bitten lips. "C'mon, Bucky, show me how much you like it, gimme all you got, I want you, I want _everything_ , just- C'mon, Bucky-"

"Jesus," Bucky hissed between his teeth, his eyes flashing open, murky and hot like a summer storm, and then his head arched back, his face and neck flushed, and his chest down to his nipples, and he was glistening with sweat and the tendons were standing out on his neck as he bared his teeth, groaning, thrusting, shuddering, and then he was gasping, moaning, and his cock twitched and pulsed, his seed pumping hot and slick deep into the tight heat of Steve's body.

Steve's mouth stayed open as his eyes slipped closed, squirming, the low, rattling gasp that came from between his lips sensual enough to make Bucky's skin prickle. He kept moving, too, kept moving and moving, whimpering in passing when Bucky's cock caught the right spot in the middle of one of the gyrations of his hips. Steve was always enthusiastic, once he got started, but now, slick with sweat and slippery with silk, satin and lace, he was ardent and exhilarated. He'd never even suggested they turn out the light.

Bucky sat back on his knees, licking his lips and running his hands over Steve's body, from his shoulders down to his squirming hips, still inside him, still somewhat hard, still flexing to pump into him, slowly, come mingling with sweat and trickling over Steve's skin. Bucky was still sweaty, still flushed, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving with his ragged breaths as he gazed down at him greedily.

Eyes downcast, face flushed, mouth open, Steve ran his own hands up Bucky's arms, squeezing his shoulders, giving a disbelieving little laugh.

"This is how you wanted it, right?" he whispered, one of his feet moving across the back of Bucky's calves.

Bucky exhaled a sigh, then hissed softly between his teeth, hips flexing again, cock thrust deep inside Steve's slick heat, the sensation making his eyes flutter closed, making him catch his lip briefly between his teeth.

"Yeah," he sighed.

Steve's eyes rolled, the dark paint on his lashes making them look brighter and bluer than ever, especially with how blown his pupils were. His hands trembled on Bucky's skin.

"Good. I- Ah! Mm... I liked it. It was good. N'not just because it made you happy, it was really good. Like," he laughed, high and soft, and ducked into his shoulders again. "I don't ever wanna get outta bed with you, I want you to keep doin' that until you can't. That good."

Bucky sighed again, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Oh, I'm going to," he mumbled. Then he leaned forward, Steve's hips in his lap, and kissed his mouth, still thrusting, gently, slowly, as long as he was hard.

Steve cupped his hands over Bucky's jaw and kissed him back, his own hips moving, too, still breathing slow and deep, even, his hair completely wrecked, lipstick gone, the chemise rucked up over his flat stomach. He buried his next question in Bucky's mouth, eyes just barely open, voice so soft Bucky might have missed it.

"You liked that I started for you, huh?"

"That was- mmph. _Insane_ ," he mumbled, nipping at Steve's mouth in return. "You should do it in front of me sometime..."

The moan that came out of Steve's mouth was incredulous, and it went on a bit longer when Bucky hit the right place inside him again, his fingers sliding up to tangle into Bucky's hair.

"You're going to embarrass me to death, Barnes," he warned, but he didn't swat him or even, actually, look all that mad.

By the time they dragged themselves out of bed, Bucky had come in Steve again and Steve could barely keep his legs under him, squealing and falling into his chair at their rickety card table when Bucky gave his panty-clad ass a possessive spank. Bucky brought Steve a bowl of stew and kissed his temple before he sat down with his own, naked and coaxing Steve into a round of footsie as they ate. Normally, cuddling and necking after they fucked was Bucky's thing and Steve would put in token complaints and protests, but dressing up had obviously made him feel so self-conscious and vulnerable that he knew he needed it and soaked it up.

When they were done, Bucky rinsed out the dishes in the sink and dragged Steve back to bed, threatening to toss him over his shoulder and carry him when he stumbled again, which made Steve laugh and shove into him with all his weight. Bucky barely stumbled, which made both of them laugh, and neither of them even looked at Steve's bed.

Bucky sat down on the edge of his own, right in the middle of the tangled, abused sheets, and coaxed Steve into straddling his lap. It took another twenty minutes of coaxing, kissing, sweet talking and petting for Bucky to work up the nerve to ask Steve to sit on his dick and ride it, but it was worth it for the expression on his face, when he had one hand on Bucky's chest and the other on his thigh, the sheer fabric of the panties holding his own hard cock against his stomach, so full and so turned on he couldn't form words, Bucky's hands on his hips keeping him moving even after Bucky came, until Steve came so hard he fell on Bucky's chest because he'd nearly fainted.

Bucky was laughing, kneading at the nape of his neck with one hand, stroking his back with the other, kissing his sweaty hair.

"There you go, sweetheart," he said, his voice a rough, breathless whisper. "Atta boy."

"Mpreshure we ruined 'em," Steve slurred, wriggling his skinny arms around Bucky's torso and nuzzling into his jaw. "Mebbe s'ok, bought like, four, five more pairs. M'god Bucky. M'tired. Feel messy."

"Shh, shh." Bucky continued to stroke Steve's back, running his hand over his bare skin in broad circles. "It's okay. Sure were fine, though. That's my baby."

Steve made a soft, agreeable sound, pillowing his head on Bucky's shoulder and starting to breathe deeper, going more and more still.

"You gonna fall asleep on me now?" Bucky chuckled warmly, and then started to shift, lying back onto the pillows with Steve's slight form cradled against his chest, still inside him.

"Go to sleep, darlin'. We can get all cleaned up in the morning."

**Author's Note:**

> In case you wanted more of a visual, I added these to my tumblr:
> 
> [Steve's hairstyle](http://zetsubonna.tumblr.com/post/88745869420/steves-hairstyle-from-intensification-via)   
>  [Steve's dress](http://zetsubonna.tumblr.com/post/88745921890/steves-dress-from-intensification-via-1930s)   
>  [Steve's chemise](http://zetsubonna.tumblr.com/post/88746142355/steves-chemise-from-intensification-via)   
>  [Steve's drawers](http://zetsubonna.tumblr.com/post/88745806660/steves-drawers-from-intensification-via)
> 
> Yeah, he went all out. <3


End file.
